


I Know

by chase_acow



Series: The Cupid [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Established Relationship, Grooming, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Wing Kink, angel physiology, but not really?, just smut and happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10751370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: He slipped his suspenders over his shoulders and untucked his tank so he could wipe away any remaining smudges. He hadn’t bothered to stop inside, too excited to spend the extra time with his angel. Peggy was kind enough not to poke too hard at Bucky’s about-face to romance, but Steve was a master at saying ‘I told you so’ without saying any of the words.





	I Know

Bucky opened the side door and stepped out into the backyard. It was still early in the afternoon for once, since the foreman had called it a day when Rumlow had gotten stuck in the quick dry concrete. Bucky tried not to be too smug, but having been the butt of that asshole’s jokes for the last two years meant Bucky couldn’t help but enjoy he string of hilarious bad luck dogged that jerk’s footsteps. Maybe someone who was actually a decent worker would get the promotion Rumlow had been sucking up to get. 

The backyard was quiet, Cheeba snoozed easily in the swing, her little paws wiggling as she chased dream mice, but he was looking for Sam. He still couldn’t believe his luck, falling in love with a Cupid of all people, but if he’d learned anything, he didn’t turn his nose up good things anymore. Sam was the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

He slipped his suspenders over his shoulders and untucked his tank so he could wipe away any remaining smudges. He hadn’t bothered to stop inside, too excited to spend the extra time with his angel. Peggy was kind enough not to poke too hard at Bucky’s about-face to romance, but Steve was a master at saying ‘I told you so’ without saying any of the words. 

He’d never tried to tame the backyard; no one else saw it and Bucky liked the roses growing wild. He liked the rocky path that led to a giant tree trunk, cut and worn smooth before he’d ever thought about buying the house. That was where he found Sam, sitting cross-legged on the middle of the stump with his wings spread wide in the dapple sunlight. 

“Hey, beautiful,” Bucky said, his voice soft enough it didn’t disturb the birds chirping in the low hanging branches or the bunny loitering in the mulberries. “What’s shaking?” 

Sam’s wings were glorious, white where they sprouted between his shoulders, but quickly shaded to a warm gray, and then charcoal at the tips. They were so soft, and Bucky loved to press his face to them and just breathe in their heady musk. He loved it when Sam used them to touch him, wings as easy as hands whenever either of them needed some comfort. He knew them so well, how they moved and how they emoted, but he’d never seen them like now. 

They were shiny in spots, dry toward the tips, but dripping in other places, and he’d never seen Sam hold them at such an awkward angle, as if they were heavy and he could actually feel the burden. Concern hurried his steps, his boots crunched in the gravel, and he didn’t see the riot of colors in the flowers marking his way to Sam’s broad back. “Are you okay?” he asked. Their relationship was still so new, and Bucky didn’t know a quarter as much as he wanted to about the angels.

“I’m great,” Sam said, his words as slow as drippy honey. He twisted and leaned back on his hands so he could see Bucky over his shoulder. The play of his dark skin over muscle and bone lit a spark in Bucky's belly. “I am so great.” 

Bucky rounded the stump and went down on one knee. Sam followed his movements, but a second too late, his eyes were heavily lidded, and both corners of his mouth tipped up in a soft smile. He let Bucky touch his face, nearly purred and bent down, rubbing their cheeks together. Since they'd been together, Sam had been free with his affection, with those casual touches that Bucky loved best because they meant Sam couldn't help himself. And hopefully wouldn't want to. 

“You’re so high, is what you are,” Bucky said with a grin. The trees trembled in the wind, and in the light he could see Sam’s pupil blown wide. How much he loved this silly angel still sometimes left him feeling smacked with a two-by-four. “What’s going on?” 

“Oiling my wings. They've needed it for a while, but I didn't think you'd be home so soon,” Sam answered, curling one of his wings over his shoulder to nudge Bucky’s side. The feathers left a wet patch in the thin cotton, but they were warm and heavy. “Want to help?” 

“As if I’d say no to that,” Bucky said. On this side, he could smell the change, Sam’s wings smelled sweeter than normal. The excess oil had dripped down his body too, leaving stripes on his skin, and puddling around the white athletic shorts Sam had borrowed from Bucky’s dresser. He stood and circled to Sam’s back. “What should I do?” 

“Here you go, use this so you won’t get all messy,” Sam said, passing a rag over his shoulder for Bucky. “Spread the oil evenly across the span and in between each feather.” 

“What if I want to get messy?” Bucky dug his fingers into the heavy muscles of Sam’s back, dropping kisses along his shoulder. He shaved a lot more often these days, too careful to leave beard burn in the wake of his mouth. “Would that be okay?” 

“Yeah,” Sam voice husked immediately and his wings shivered in their pleased fashion. “That’d be fine.” 

Bucky started with his hands cupped over the big bones on top of Sam's wings, smoothing his fingers over the small covert feathers. In moments, oil covered him up to the elbow and dripped from his fingers. It was thick but slippery, sliding easily over Sam’s wings and even between feathers as Bucky pushed his fingers through them. A handful of feathers came loose as he combed through, he set those to the side so Sam could use or trade them later. 

He got lost in the repetitive motion, adjusting as Sam moved his wing’s into better positions until they were both covered in his slick. It wasn't like being intoxicated, not really, or like the few times he'd smoked before his deployment. Somehow, the rest of the world had just fallen away, and it was only him and Sam left. He felt good. So good. 

“Take. . . take this off,” Sam said, turning around and raising to his knees. He pulled at the bottom of Bucky’s shirt, pulled at it like the fabric had insulted his feathers. It was practically see through anyway, Bucky shed it quickly and tossed it behind him. He eagerly pressed up to Sam’s chest, as Sam used his suspenders to pull him close. He bit his lip as Sam transferred his tight grip to Bucky’s hips. “I wanna fuck you, baby. Wanna. Inside. Inside _you_.” 

Those athletic shorts were hiding absolutely nothing. Bucky's breath stuttered as Sam reached around, grabbing handfuls of his ass and bringing their hips together. "Take me inside," he said against Sam's mouth, they were too far gone for kisses, but they breathed together, their lips slick. He realized the oil was there too, and licked it off, tasting caramel and slightly burned sugar. "Take me to bed, big bird." 

"You know how much I love that nickname," Sam said, hoisting Bucky up by his thighs. "Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart. Hold on tight." 

Bucky loved this part. Sam wasn't human, not a human with wings. He was a motherfucking angel. Bucky gripped him tight with his thighs, crossing his ankles and wrapping his arm around Sam's shoulders. He might be a construction worker by day, but by night, he could be manhandled as easily as if he were Steve's size. Sam blurred them, moving through space and time. Bucky landed on their bed, laughing with delight. 

Wind buffeted him from Sam's wings, his hair went everywhere, but he didn't care. He ripped at the button on his jeans, wiggling until he got the material down and off. He spread his legs, and Sam was there, naked and as hard as he was. He’d never get tired of this.

"Love it, love your hands on my wings," Sam said, using his oil to ease his way inside Bucky. His finger slid in with barely any resistance, crooking at the knuckle so Bucky saw stars. "Put 'em back. I'll treat you so good, Bucky. I'll make it good." 

"Of course you will," Bucky said, already digging his fingers into the feathers. Sam eased his wings down on the mattress, using them to keep his balance as he added another finger and used his other hand to help Bucky tilt his hips up. He leaned down to lick up Bucky's stomach. "You always do." 

Sam put his teeth to Bucky's abs, sucking the oil from his skin. Bucky felt caged in, and he loved it. He struggled to open his legs further, to curl up, wanting Sam closer. 

"This is my favorite lily-white belly," Sam said, stroking his chin along the underside of Bucky's ribs. His goatee tickled, but wiggling took Bucky further away from Sam's fingers, so he suffered, but not in silence. 

"Yeah, my farmer's tan brings all the boys to the yard," Bucky said, sucking deep breaths while tugging gently on Sam's primary feathers. From his right elbow down and the neck up, he was as tan as a man who worked outside all day. Everything else, however, was a patchwork of pale on pale depending on how often he managed to relax in the sun. 

"I'm not sure what that means, but I'll shoot any boys trampling on my flowers," Sam answered, biting into Bucky's pec. "I know it's tight, but can I? Do you need another finger?" 

"I need you," Bucky rolled his hips, taking the length of Sam's fingers. On any other day, he might need longer, need another finger, but now he needed Sam. Needed him like air. 

Sam's wings flared upright, rubbing against each other. Most of the oil had soaked in, but the light shining from the window picked up the gleam, almost making them glow. "I love you, Bucky," he said, taking Bucky's hips with both hands as he positioned himself. "Loved you before you shoved that arrow in my ass." 

"Yeah," Bucky breathed, taking a deep breath while he tilted and pushed into Sam. "Yeah, I know." 

"That's it baby, just relax," Sam said, grinding inexorably into Bucky's body while he bent down to rub his face in Bucky's chest. "That's it. Hard part’s over." 

The tip inside, Bucky had to agree, at Sam's mercy as he rocked his hips in short bursts. The bed jerked too, the squeaks and scrapes almost covered the rhythmic grunts forced through Bucky's lungs. He felt hollowed out inside, made brand new each time Sam touched him. It gave him another chance to be better, to be worth it, to be someone Sam should love. 

"C'mon, Angelface," Bucky said, though he couldn't make the words any louder than a harsh whisper. "I know you got more than that." 

"And you want it, huh?" Sam asked, his wings flared again, flapping. He pulled out and flipped Bucky over, adding to the finger sized bruises dotting his flanks, before he sank back in. "I'll give you everything." 

He used Bucky's body as much as his own, thrusting in as he pulled Bucky back. Bucky couldn't keep his balance, falling flat on his face without a care in the world. Everything tingled, warmth spread from every single place Sam had touched him. Sam lifted him, and then crossed his wings in front of Bucky's chest, letting his weight fall into the feathers. His arms were trapped outside, stroking along the line of muscles and bones holding him up. 

"Bucky," Sam breathed, saying his name like a prayer. Sam pushed his face into Bucky's spine, thrusting harder and faster. His hands branded Bucky's waist, but every movement of his hips pushed Bucky into Sam's feathers. 

"This is torture," Bucky whined, clutching at handfuls of feathers. His cock was red hot, heavy, and the light tickles from Sam's feathers were driving him crazy. Not enough to make him come, but enough to wind him tighter and tighter. "We are never doing this again, every chance we get." 

"Anything you say, sweetheart," Sam agreed, groaning out his release. He pressed tight, as close as he could get around Bucky's back. He mouthed at the seam between Bucky's flesh and his prosthesis. His hands framed Bucky's groin, still not touching his cock. "What do you want, baby?" 

Bucky shivered, caught on Sam's cock, caught in his arms. "Your wings, please," he groaned, Sam still so big inside him, strong around him. "Your wings." 

Sam moved his arms up, hugging around Bucky's chest to hold him still. One wing came up and twisted out, the other curled more securely around Bucky's groin and thighs. His cock pressed up against his belly, caught in the mussed up feathers. The other wing stroked along his face and chest. Sam was delicate, the biggest feathers able to vary pressure from the lightest caress to a strong stoke. 

"I love you," Bucky whispered, closing his eyes and arching his back into Sam. The feathers tickled his neck, trailed down and raised his nipples to hard points. "I love you. I love you. I love you." 

The wing around his waist moved, clinging tighter, rubbing up along the underside of his cock. Sam twisted Bucky's head to the side, kissed the edges of his lips, bit his jaw. "I know," he said, grinding against Bucky's ass and pinging his prostate. "I know, baby. Come for me." 

Bucky thrust against the wing, rubbing between Sam's body and the soft, wet feathers. This was it, everything he'd ever wanted and never thought he'd have. It came on him all at once, orgasm as he took Sam's hand, twined his fingers in feathers, and breathed deep. Pleasure pulsed up, rolling through him and leaving his limp as Sam held him tight.

“So,” Bucky said, his chest finally unstuck as Sam let him down on the bed. “How often do you need to oil those feather dusters?”

“About every two hundred years or so,” Sam said, cuddling behind Bucky and bringing up his wing to cover both of them. “But it probably wouldn’t hurt anything to be a little more thorough.”

“Deal,” Bucky said, tucking his cheek against Sam’s feathers. “Wake me up for dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone! [ if you're so minded.](http://cowsalot.tumblr.com/)


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